“I’m still stuck on what a decocker might be,” Chas murmured.
Gunner snorted in humor.
“Is Poppy still asleep?” Chas asked.
“Jesus. I haven’t checked on her. I woke up when your car drove up and headed straight out here.”
“To kill me.”
“Well, to kill the intruder I thought you were.”
“Why not try to apprehend one of the bad guys? Make him talk? Find out what they want with Poppy and me?”
Gunner shrugged. “We could. But it’s not as easy or pretty as it is on TV to get a prisoner to spill their guts. You have to be prepared to do some bad things to break a really determined prisoner, or you have to be super patient and prepared to take your time earning their trust. Either way, it’s messy and time-consuming.”
“That’s disappointing,” Chas replied.
Gunner moved swiftly to the second bedroom, which had come with a crib, and checked on Poppy, who was sprawled on her stomach with her face mashed against the mattress. She clutched the stuffed elephant and drooled a little in her sleep.
“She’s passed out like a cheap drunk,” he announced, returning to Chas’s side.
“She’s not a cheap drunk,” Chas declared. “Well, she probably would be at this age, but don’t ever give her alcohol, okay?”
“Never,” Gunner agreed. “Watchya got in the bags?” His stomach was growling something fierce.
“Nothing fancy. This place doesn’t have much by way of cooking equipment. When we get back to my place in Misty Falls, I’ll cook you a dinner that’ll make you weep with joy. But for now, you’re getting hamburgers.”
“I’ll take ’em.”
They worked together for the next few minutes, Gunner mashing hamburger into patties and frying them while Chas thin-sliced potatoes and fried them. When he pulled the fries out of the pot, he sprinkled them expertly with some sort of spice combination.
“You some kind of gourmet chef these days?” Gunner asked in surprise.
“I don’t know about being a gourmet, but I do like to cook, and I know what kind of wine to serve with what food.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you about eating bugs, then, should I?”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Chas responded in horror.
“When you’ve got no food, you make do.”
“You always have the means to hunt or fish or something, don’t you?”
Gunner shrugged. “Sometimes a hide runs longer than you humped in supplies for. Or you’re in a place with no game to hunt. Or you can’t move or make noise because you’re too close to hostiles. Food’s not the problem—a guy can go a couple of weeks without eating. Water’s the thing. You’ve only got about five days in the field without that before you die.”
“And on that grim note….” Chas poured two big glasses of water and carried them over to the table.
A wail from the second bedroom announced that Poppy had woken up.
“Just in time to eat with us,” Chas announced. “If you’ll go get her and pop a fresh diaper on her, I’ll finish up getting the meal served.”
“Handy being a great cook all of a sudden,” Gunner grumbled.
Chas grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. An infectious joy had always clung to Chas, and it was impossible not to feel good in his presence. He was probably a great teacher.
Gunner picked Poppy out of the crib, and she snuggled against his chest, only half-awake. She was warm and soft and trusting, and something cracked inside his heart. Feelings he’d never had before flooded through him. As he laid her down on the bed to change her diaper, he tried to give them a name. Protectiveness. Affection. Even a parental urge. What was up with that? He had no desire to have a family of his own. Hell, he didn’t even have a relationship of his own—
His gaze lifted to the doorway and the man moving efficiently around the kitchenette. Chas. It was always Chas. In his life for as long as he could remember, a steady friend and loyal supporter. The guy had been a constant throughout his childhood. Maybe the only constant, in fact.
He picked up Poppy, who promptly stuck her finger in his ear and squealed with laughter when he turned his head and pretended to bite at her fingers. She did it again, and he played the game with her as he carried her to the high chair Chas was putting up.
“We were lucky to get this place,” Chas commented. “They’re really set up for kids.”
“I had no idea kids needed so much stuff.”
Chas shrugged. “We could make do without most of it. Diapers, the right food, and lots of love are pretty much the only mandatory bits. The rest of this stuff is just for convenience.”
Chas buckled Poppy into her seat, and Gunner pulled out a chair for Chas in turn.
Chas glanced up at him, his big green eyes bigger and greener than usual. “Thanks,” he murmured.
“I appreciate how you’re taking care of Poppy and me,” Gunner ventured to murmur back.
“You would do the same for her if I wasn’t here.”
Gunner snorted. “I would have no idea what to do with a kid by myself.”
“You’d figure it out.”
“Doubtful. They might as well be tiny aliens to me.”
“Cute tiny aliens,” Chas corrected as he broke bits of hamburger and french fries onto the tray in front of Poppy along with pieces of cut-up apple.
“You’re great with her.”
“I love kids.”
“Do you want to have some of your own eventually?”
“Not that eventually. I’m almost thirty.”
Fear shivered down Gunner’s spine. Chas and kids. Big commitment. Huge—
Whoa. Wait. Why did that stray thought pop into his mind? Was he subconsciously considering entering into an actual adult relationship with Chas? That kind of relationship? Complete with feelings and shared lives and… shared bank accounts? Mortgages? Forever?
Abruptly, the succulent hamburger in his mouth turned to sawdust. He’d never considered settling down at all, let alone with, well, a dude. Even if Chas wasn’t just any dude. It would be a huge step—the kind he couldn’t walk back from if he took it. The whole world would know he was gay, and there would be no undoing that—
His brain hitched yet again. Would it really be so bad to fully embrace who he was and who he loved? A band of steel tightened around his chest until he struggled to draw a full breath. Sonofabitch. He was panicking.
He laid his hamburger down and pushed back from the table.
“What’s wrong? Did I overcook it?” Chas asked in alarm.
Gunner shook his head and rushed out of the cabin, grabbing his coat and shoulder holster on the way out. It was cold outside, a gray, wet afternoon with a raw wind that would knock down most of the rest of the fall foliage by tomorrow. It made for quiet movement through the trees, though. He made a full circuit around the cabin, mostly by rote as his brain spun out in every direction and that steel band refused to loosen.
All of his life had been one giant lie. He’d known he was gay since he’d been about fourteen but had refused to acknowledge it. Granted, his old man had been part of that. The bastard had never missed a chance to bash Chas for being gay once the boys had reached their teens and Chas had come out. The only reason his father had let him and Chas continue to hang out together was because it hadn’t ever crossed the bastard’s mind that his own son might also be gay. Gunner had known if he ever admitted to being interested in a boy that he’d have been lucky to live another day.